As It Seems
by dreams and desperation
Summary: In this world, everything is an illusion... Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games
1. Chapter 1

_Days are precious and our time here is all we get._ That's what I have to keep saying to myself. _Make each moment count or else we'll never get it back._ As much as I want to ignore today, ignore the reaping later, I can't. It's a day of my life - ignore it and it slips away, never to come back. I want to make every day of my life count, make it mean something, you know? Never living with the regret of letting something as precious as time slip away, that's how I want to be.

I wear what my mother calls my 'fine attire' and I go for a pre-reaping walk, just to see nature. I pass the little patch of bluebells in which I would usually sit, not sitting there today so I don't dirty my dress with the brown earth. Instead, I just keep walking, walking until I reach the water that glistens so brightly on a sunny day like today. I smile. It's a shame that so many people lock themseleves away on a morning like this one, where there's a blue sky and just a couple of fluffy clouds.

There's a light breeze hitting the back of my neck and I giggle, it tickles! I stand there for a while, just looking at the water, and then I make my way back home. I mustn't be late for the reaping - I wouldn't like to become acquaintanced with the results of that offence! I've never seen it in my lifetime, we're all too obedient these days, but there's a rumour that a girl was once whipped until she died, her back bloody, because she failed to turn up to the reaping. I don't know how much truth is in that, but I, for one, do not wish to discover.

My mother embraces me and then tells me to make haste so I'm not late. Heaven forbid if I am late. She grabs my palm in one of her hands and my brother's in her other, and she marches us to the square.

"Mother, where is Father?" I ask as we walk.

"Already there, poppet," she responds. I nod, though nobody notices my action.

We reach the square and the man at the desk pricks my finger for my blood. It doesn't seem the most humane way to sign people in. Then again, in what way is the Hunger Games humane? A bloody finger is the least of my worries.

I am led to my section and I stand there amongst the other children. It's a horrible feeling. _Now, now, I needn't worry, I have next to no tesserae, there are people with far worse odds than me._

I gulp. It's not impossible that I could be reaped. I may have better odds than some, but others only have one entry, so they've got much better odds than I do.

Ariadne Garnett takes her place centre stage, her blue hair vibrant as ever. Her orange suit is awful, but slightly less hideous than last year's pink one. I allow myself to giggle at the memory. That was a dreadful choice of outfit.

Our district's mayor starts on and on about the origins of the games and, to be quite frank, it's boring me. So I pay no attention. Why should I? Everything we're told on this day is always a lie. I mean, I hardly believe that Ariadne feels honoured to be here, though she claims that she does each year. Every escort wants to be in the top two districts, and in comparison being here is laughable. I don't see why they try to lie and say they love it when they quite clearly don't.

Onstage sit the victors, all of them trying to look upbeat even though we all know that they're not, that they're as miserable as the rest of us. They've probably already figured out that the odds are against another victor this year. Mentoring must be horrible, each year helping someone, trying to give them hope of their survival when you know that chances are they'll die.

I don't think I could do it. It seems so cruel to think that the tributes are given hope of living, only to end up dying. Twenty-three do die every year. It's a horrible world that I wish I didn't live in. But I do, and that's life, and I'm going to make the most of it. We only get one life and it's precious, no matter how dreadful it may seem at times.

Ariadne says, "Ladies first!" and I hold my breath, it's a stressful moment as she walks to the bowl, picks one slip from thousands and returns to her place on the stage, behind the microphone. _That could be me._ Sheer terror kicks in. _Oh, gosh, it could be my name!_

She taps the microphone as though to get our attention, even though she is fully aware that we are all listening. I say a silent prayer that it is nobody who I know, that it isn't anybody who I care about. That it, most of all, isn't me.

"Johanna Mason." _It's me._

All of the girls around me, all of the other seventeens, just stare at me as I begin to cry. _Why me?_

One girl pushes me and I stumble a few steps closer to the stage. As I walk, I feel everybody's eyes on me and the tears start to fall from my eyes even faster. One boy in the eighteen section sniggers as I pass. Usually I would think of possibly confronting him, but that's the least of my worries right now.

I tremble as I try to climb the stairs but I can't do it, I physically can't. Two peacekeepers arrive and carry me up the stairs as I sob, placing me to the right of Ariadne. I look at the audience, at the other eligible girls, none of them in any danger for another year as volunteers are requested. It's stupid protocol, we're in Seven - that means nobody wants to sacrifice themselves for others in the same situation. They just don't see the point. I'm not exactly sure I see the point myself, though as I stand here I wish someone- anyone, even, felt sorry for me and wanted to take my place.

It's just a futile wish, but it seems more possible when you stand there than it ever does while you're in safety. Of course, it isn't, it's just the way the desperate think. Right now, I am desperate. I need an escape from the Hunger Games.

There isn't one.

Now it's the boys. Araidne walks over to the bowl and selects a slip from right at the bottom. When back beside me, she clears her throat before proceeding to read.

"Gideon Harber."

A boy walks up from the thirteens. I'm unable to decide whether this is good or bad - good because he's less of a threat, bad because nobody that young deserves to die. I guess I'll go with bad.

Gideon and I are made to shake hands, and he's shaking as much as I am. There is no use trying to not show it - I'm petrified. Yes, I'm adept with an axe, but there isn't always an axe and there will be bigger, stronger tributes who are properly trained.

Ariadne makes some sort of announcement, I think it was our names again, but I don't really pay attention. After all, if I don't want to die then I need a plan. I can see my brother in the crowd, and I can only think one thing.

 _I have to survive._


	2. Chapter 2

I'm escorted through the Justice Building and sat in a room. I've never been in here before and it's nicer than I imagined it would be. I guess that isn't too hard though - I haven't ever properly thought about it.

The wait isn't long before my mother runs in, teary eyed, and wraps me in such a tight hug I struggle to breathe.

"Too... tight..." I choke, and she lets me go.

"Sorry, Johanna. It's just... knowing you might be going from us forever makes me want to hug you even more than usual. I mean, you're my daughter... and you're being put on a train that will take you to die. You're my daughter! My daughter!" She looks like she is going to collapse so I grab her wrists to steady her. "Poppet, you mean so much to me and without you I would be broken inside. You're my baby girl still - you always will be - and I need you home, I need you safe."

I twirl a piece of my hair which has come loose. "I know, Mother. I need you too, I don't know what I'll do without you there." I look up and see my father and brother. "And you both. I'll miss you all..."

I start to cry even more, and I'm sure the whole justice building can probably hear my sobs, but I'm sure they've heard worse still.

I walk across the room to where my brother stands. "Daniel..." I begin but I choke up. "Oh, goodness, I can't... I can't do this. I can't say goodbye to you all, it seems too final, like I have already died. I probably will die, b-but... but there's a miniscule chance of me living. I don't want to die, I'll do whatever it takes to survive, I'll prove I'm capable..."

"Johanna, you were inconsolable back there. Nobody's going to think you're capable," reminds my father, and I begin to panic even more. But then I come up with an idea, and it just might work.

"Whatiftheydon'tthinkI'macontender?" They all stare at me like I'm mad. I sigh, and go about explaning myself. "Well, what if? I mean, if they've all written me off then they won't pursue me so soon, and maybe I'd stand a chance! If I'm feeble, and if I'm weak, then they won't consider me a contender, but I would be. I would be a contender in disguise, disguised as a weakling! Obviously, it's underhand, but my life's going to be on the line so what choice do I have?"

There's silence for a few moments before my father pipes up. "That, Johanna, is genius. Oh, I've always been so proud of you, sweetie..." He tries to wrap his arms around me but I shuffle away. If my mother's hug left me unable to breathe, then my father's would kill me. Lilterally, he would manage to squish me to death. Instead, I hug my brother. He's younger, weaker, so he can't do me any harm.

"Johanna, what if they manage to kill you?" Daniel asks, and I cannot think of an answer.

"I just have to hope they can't get to me." I smile. It's peculiar how, in our most vulnerable moments, we are able to laugh so much more.

I take a look at all three members of my family, and I can't take it. "Oh, goodness, I love you guys. You have to promise to stay strong for me, and to never give up hope for me - can you do that? I mean, if my own family stops believing in me, goodness only knows how I should manage."

My mother tucks the loose strand of hair behind my ear, and kisses me on the cheek. "Johanna, I could never give up on you. I don't think I know of any mother who would ever lose confidence in their daughter..."

"Thanks," I say, and I mean it. Just knowing I have them behind me makes me feel so much better somehow.

A peacekeeper comes to the door. "Mr Mason, Mrs Mason, may I request that you leave now, taking your son with you. Miss Mason has another visitor who requests time with her."

"Of course, sir. Immediately," my mother responds, her voice shaky. They all come and kiss me on my cheek - a humble goodbye - and then they're gone, and I await my next visitor.

Elise comes to see me, and she looks considerably less sad than my family did.

"Hello," I tentatively say, suspicious of her surprisingly collected manner.

"Hello." She takes a seat and I make myself comfortable in the one opposite. "So... this is farewell. I mean, I guess it was nice knowing you..." she jokes, and a manage a small giggle.

"Don't lose all faith in me yet, please don't. I'm intending on coming home. You've seen me in the forest, with an axe, you know I'm capable..."

"You are capable, yes, but are your morals intact? Because killing people- children even, that takes a very immoral person."

"Or a desperate one," I point out.

"Someone would have to be very desperate to kill som-"

"IT'S THE HUNGER GAMES, HOW MUCH MORE DESPERATE DO YOU EXPECT?" She's silent now, shocked at my statement probably. I'm typically so quiet and reserved so this is unusual, even if I have on occasion reacted badly in the past.

"I'm sorry, Johanna..." There's a ghost of a smile on her face trying to fight against the sorrow in her eyes, but it's not powerful enough to win the battle and Elise seems to stay down.

I smile weakly back and I tell her that she needn't apologise, that this isn't her fault, that it was a decision beyond her control. She just cups my left hand between both of hers and she holds it tight. When she lets go there's a charm in my hand, a tiny pinecone carved of wood.

"It's for in the arena. You will take it, won't you?"

"Of course I will, Elise, how could I not?" I'm already crying but if I hadn't have been, her gesture would have still brought a tear to my eye.

We just sit there, in silence, me glad of her presence, her treasuring her possible last moments with me. It'd seem pointless to spend the time like this to most people, but for us it is powerful. It gives me a chance to reflect on all the fun times we have had together. When we were running through the forests aged seven. Or when we were ten and her father was teaching us how to use an axe properly so we could help with the lumber industry. Happy memories that I don't ever want to lose, that I intend on taking with me to my grave, be that now or in sixty years time.

After a while she is made to go. "Goodbye, Johanna."

I can't bear the idea of making our farewell final, so I just say, "See you, Elise."


	3. Chapter 3

There's a short journey in a car to the station, and I'm made to sit in the back with Gideon. I always thought that it was strange when the tributes didn't even try to seem strong for the cameras, but I'm now in their position and I'm not trying to seem strong. No, I'm just letting myself cry, and I'm glad that I'm allowing myself to since goodness only knows how I would cope if I had to keep all of my emotions inside of me.

I haven't been in a car until now - there's been no need. I've always wanted to though. Unfortunately, it's nothing special - it's really not that different from a wagon.

We reach the station and there are camera crews there, taking photos of the tributes. I don't doubt that these shall be used for propaganda. Good. I can't see how they could get rid of my tearstained face without completely changing the image. They'll all count me out.

After a few minutes of pretending to be even more scared than I actually am, I rush onboard and wait for the doors to close behind me. Thankfully, they do so quickly.

The Capitol train is exquisitly designed, well thought out and _fast._ 250 miles per hour, to be exact. When it begins to move, I almost fall over. I can literally feel the speed.

I, like Gideon, walk to my chambers first of all and sit down on the side of the mattress. It seems comfortable, though I have no idea why we need a bed which is so luxurious. We're only here for one night. After a few minutes of just sitting there, I decide to explore the area. Needless to say, it's more than I have ever imagined one person could need. Especially just for a few hours of their life.

There seems to be a whole separate room for clothes, and a bathroom, although it's far finer than my bathroom back home. Besides, there all four of us share the tiny space. Here it is my own, nobody is sharing. It feels weird, selfish even. _Only it isn't, and the finery is poor compensation for the price of our lives._

Ariadne appears in the doorway and notifies me that I have just one hour before I am required to make an appearance in the dining room. Though I am no longer crying, I'm hoping that the streaks on my face give the illusion that the tears are still falling.

I decide to remain in the bathroom and see what differences there are here. As it turns out, the showers here are hot and much more powerful. I get out of it immediately, it feels like it is scalding my body. It's horrible, and I much prefer the showers in Seven. I wrap the towel which is far too soft and fluffy around my body and walk back into the bedroom, this time opting to lie down. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, for ages, and eventually Ariadne walks into the room and squeals in disgust.

"Johanna, what are you wearing? Put on some clothes, nobody wants to see leg hair." I just frown, and sit up.

"What is wrong with having leg hair? It's natural." Apparently that wasn't what I was meant to say, since she squeals again.

"It is not natural! Young lady, it is disgusting! Note how nobody with any respect has leg hair. Now, quickly, put on a dress - tights would be advisible also, just to hide your legs until your prep team have sorted them out - and come out here." She gestures to a chest of drawers and, though I am reluctant to wear anything from the Capitol due to their strange fashion, I have no choice but to wear an outfit from there. She leaves and I pick a short, pink dress with buttons down the front to help with the childish image and walk to the main room, but not until I retrieve my token from my reaping dress.

When I walk into the room, a certain woman shoots me a look of disapproval. "I thought we mentioned tights, Johanna. I cannot see evidence of any tights..."

I look at my legs and shake my head. "No, I cannot either. I must have forgotten," I say, pretending to feel guilty about my harmless action.

One of the two victors, the one to the right of her, taps her on the shoulder and whispers something in her ear. She nods. "Well, you had better eat then, Johanna. Maybe you might remember tomorrow to cover up your legs..." She's doing a terrible job of hiding her scowl, it almost isn't worth trying. I refrain from giggling, and take a seat beside Gideon, who smiles sadly at me. _Poor kid, going to die so young. Then again, I'm only a few years older..._

The soup is served immediately, and it's different to the kind my mother sometimes makes in the winter. I prefer my mother's. The food just keeps coming and I try not to eat too much to begin with, but by dessert I learn to give in. After all, I may as well make the most of my reward for dying soon.

After I finish the final bites of the gorgeous cake that we have been served, Ariadne addresses both my district partner and I. "Gideon, you shall be mentored by Blight." The man who had whispered to her earlier smiles. I can't say I remember his games and, though I have always known that one of the victors is named Blight, I wouldn't have been able to say which. "Johanna," she says in the voice she likely uses with the children who are barely twelve, "You shall have Ivenack as a mentor. I shall leave you to get acquaintanced with one another."

She stands up and begins to leave the room, and as she leaves she mutters, "I wish him luck," under her breath. I should be offended at the comment that obviously wasn't meant to be heard but I'm glad instead. It means she hasn't seen through me.

All four of us just sit there silently until Ivenack finally suggests that we go and watch the reaping. We do, and though I manage to weep from the very first volunteer, I'm still watching attentively. Fortunately, the only threatening looking tributes are from career districts. It's quite a relief really. Yes, some are also older, but they look frail and feeble.

Nobody reacted anywhere near as badly as I did. Funny, I wasn't even trying to seem weak then - I just let myself mourn my own imminent death.

I just want to be alone, so I quietly slip out of the room after the tape is over and I find myself a reasonably comfortable looking nightgown amongst all of the revealing silk numbers. I put Elise's miniature pinecone on the table, and climb under the covers and cry myself to sleep. None of these tears are fake this time, and I just want to be back in District Seven. I don't even care how much nicer my quarters are here in theory, I feel safer back home. I guess I actually am safer here for now - the Capitol would do everything to prevent their tributes from coming to any harm before the arena - but because of the place it is taking me to, it doesn't feel like it is.

I wake myself up early and look through the drawers again and find a light purple blouse and a pair of flared trousers in a darker shade, which I pair together. I haven't worn purple for years, but the mirror tells me I should wear it more often. Most of all, the blouse's pastel tones are not entirely different to what I have seen the younger girls wear so more than likely they can be used to my advantage.

I'm the first one in the room, but I know that it must soon be breakfast so I sit down at the table. Sure enough, everybody else soon joins me and we are served piles of food. I don't want to overeat, but it all looks so nice this morning so I eat as much as I can before I begin to feel sick and I have to go to the bathroom to throw up. My mentor follows after me and holds my hair as I vomit, and I think of how awful it must be to be a victor sometimes. There are some awful downsides that come with mentoring. _Like Johannas who eat too much._

I manage to clear myself up afterwards but I can hear Ivenack saying, "Oh, goodness, why do I always end up with the awful ones..." He leaves and I put on the first dress I come across, not caring about either the style or colour, before rushing back into the room where the others are. Our escort stares out of the window, clearly pleased to be returning home. I see Gideon's mentor, Blight, tap him on the shoulder and then Gideon goes to the window next to Ariadne and waves. I figure out that I should probably do the same so I do, but I look far more shy than Gideon. _If a boy as young as him seems more confident than me, then nobody at all will believe in me._

As we get off the train I stumble and the onlookers laugh at me. I feign total embarassment and keep walking past the crowds. Only when someone points at my dress do I realise that it is actually a fashionable item of nightwear. Now I am embarassed for real.


	4. Chapter 4

"Aargh! Are you trying to kill me?" I scream as my legs seem to be torn to pieces. She's already de-haired the rest of my body, and left my skin red and raw, and now she is getting rid of my final bit of sanity. The lady responsible giggles, as though my reaction is stupid.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm simply waxing your legs. They seriously needed doing, dear." She tears another piece of material coated in the sticky wax from my skin, and I wince.

"Why the heck couldn't you leave me alone, this is bloody painful!" I'm serious but she just laughs once again.

"Oh, you were not seriously considering that it was a possible option to send you to your stylist with a forest of hair on your legs, were you? Let me tell you something, dear - it isn't, so let it go." She continues with her torture routine a few more times before saying, "It's all gone, it shouldn't return for a while." She seems horribly pretentious, and I'm finding her far too annoying, but I stay quiet as much as I can. I need to be demure if I want to pull this off, and I've already screamed at her. Hopefully she'll just dismiss it as a reaction to the pain, a natural instinct. It _is_ a natural instinct.

My whole prep team cover me in some horrible lotion before standing me nude before them once again and attacking me with some strange metal contraption they call 'tweezers'. I've never come across them before, but I hate them already. When they pull out seemingly non-existant hairs from my naked body, it stings me.

They finally finish trying to give me a heart-attack from the pain of what they class as beauty, and tug at my hair, trying to get rid of any tangles. Lets just say that they fail miserably to begin with, since my hair is in a pretty poor condition. It's never concerned me to be honest, but it makes this trio of useless idiots nearly faint in the terror of my poor hairdo.

In the end they give up and just cut it short before adding extensions. My new hair looks dreadful but I pretend to be thankful to them, if only to get them to buy my act. After all, if they believe it, then I should have no reason to suspect that the others in the Capitol won't.

One of them mentions that Cassius is coming and they leave, leaving me alone for a moment or two. Though I hated the trio's company, they were slightly more amiable than the clinical looking room now it is empty.

Soon the man named Cassius arrives. He and his blue hair just circle me, his eyes taking in every part of my body. I feel really uncomfortable, but I daren't say. I don't want to know the consequences of complaining during a moment which isn't designed to be painful.

He gets nearer and begins to mess with my hair extensions. Though I grit my teeth, as soon as he lets go of my locks I grab my robe and begin to put it on. "Not yet, dearie, robes are for later." I take off the robe once more, but I stand right beside the counter where I place it.

After circling me a few more times, Cassius begins to mutter in that clipped Capitol accent. "Now, what can I do with you...?" This time, I don't hesitate to pull on the robe and I tie it tight to avoid his gaze. I don't like people looking at me naked.

We eat a lavish lunch - well, my stylist eats, I just attempt to figure out a way to escape from him. After half an hour or so of pushing food around my plate in utter disgust at the way men like him keep looking at me, he talks. "So, about your costume. My partner and I had a very successful pair of outfits last year, so your outfit this year is similar to last year's, with a few minor little tweaks..."

As it turns out, these tweaks are that it is skinnier and more leafy. Regardless, I remain a tree trunk. Gideon has an outfit very alike to my own, and we step on the chariot at the same time. Now Cassius is determined to make me appear even more tree-like, and he is positioning me so I look like I am not a human. It is a pretty stupid way of getting people to recognise me, but it's his call, not my own.

All of the first few districts go down like a storm, with screams of their names as they pass. Even Six have decent outfits compared to my tree. As we pass through the crowds, I consider breaking down in tears, but I establish that it would be a pointless exercise since nobody will notice the girl who is a tree if I don't do anything to make myself stand out, and water pouring from my eyes would class as something that would draw attention to me for sure. Instead, I just stand there looking every bit as scared as I really am.

Not a single person has a banner with my name on, and I'm not sure whether or not this should offend me. I mean; some people backing me would have been nice. Then again, there is no reason for them to. I seem utterly useless.

When we pull up before the president's mansion, we have to wait for the other districts to arrive. It's a painful wait, just standing there, doing nothing at all. I allow a single tear to fall, but I hold back the river so that I don't draw attention to myself. Yes, I want to seem weak if I am noticed, but I would rather be completely inconspicuous if I can be at times.

The speech by Snow is not one that I pay any attention to, but I am still glad when it is over. We are soon back inside of the stable beneath the Remake Centre, and I rush to take off the trunk, showing my black vest and tights underneath. It doesn't bother me though - at least I am clothed. Besides, black is less obvious than green is.


	5. Chapter 5

There's an elevator and it's made of crystal. It's almost magical but it's difficult to not doubt that it could be dangerous. After all, how safe can a jewel really be when it is supporting masses of people day in, day out for nearly a week each year?

Eventually, I give in and have to ask. "Ma'am, are you certain this is safe? I mean, I'm sure it is, but it just sort-of doesn't feel it entirely..." I trail off. It's all very well asking questions when you know exactly what to say. When you don't, there's not really any point. Ariadne ignores me. We continue to stand there in silence - Gideon, our escort, our two mentors, and I - until we reach our floor, the seventh one.

"Here we are!" Ariadne struts across the suite. I glance around and the space is difficult to comprehend. It may be only one floor of a building, but it is much, much larger than my home in Seven.

I visit my room and just walk around. The bathroom has many buttons and strange contraptions, and the bedroom itself isn't much better. The people here must be really lazy since they evidently cannot manage to pick out an outfit without help from a programmed wardrobe, and I spy a food order counter in the corner. I grimace. _Why would I need to eat in my room if they feed me as much as they probably are going to anyway?_

I continue to explore, disgusted by the advanced technology they have when people in the districts are suffering, until Ariadne proceeds to escort me to the dining room.

I'm disgusted to see Cassius, and Gideon's stylist. "Hello, Johanna."

I desperately avoid gritting my teeth as I mutter, "Cassius." That man creeps me out, I wish I had a different stylist.

We eat in silence, as men and women clad in white serve us. I cannot stomach much - the diet here is so much richer than my own one.

There is a replay of the Opening Ceremony that I'm told to watch and so I do, though I can't bear to see the faces of the boys and girls who will all die. I manage to sit there obediently until Gideon and I are onscreen. I see my terror, attempt to mask my smirk right now, and decide to retire to my chambers.

I check out the shower and try to figure out which buttons to press. I can't tell, so I press a random button and hope for the best. As it turns out, it was the button to cover my body in rose scented oil. I try again, and discover the button for citrus shampoo. _Third time lucky..._ This time, it is the water button and I sigh in relief. I manage to find one of the soap buttons (after a few mishaps, that is), and I wash my body. I shampoo my hair with that from my initial accident, and I step out onto a mat which apparently dries me with air. It should probably feel nice, but it creeps me out a bit, all the technology.

I cannot see any towels for my hair so I have to use a strange box. It dries, de-tangles and parts my hair in one. I can't say I like it because I really don't. How the Capitol grow to love these gadgets, goodness only knows.

I put the day's dress back on - after all, it is a nightgown - and I climb under the silk duvet. My eyes close and I forget of my worries temporarily to instead dream of home and my family. I need to see them again, so I must win.

I wake up, and suddenly jump out of bed. _That's better, I was scared that I was sinking for a moment!_ Showering is a consideration, but after last night's ordeal I decide it is not worth the bother. Instead, I just put on a simple outfit that has been laid out for me, and I walk to the same room that we ate in last night. Everyone else is already there, and I utter, "Good morning," to be polite, before taking a plate of pancakes and orange preserve. I sit in the seat furthest from Cassius and I eat silently, almost as though I am an Avox.

The two men mentoring us look sad. They don't think there will be a victor for the district this time. _Trust me, there had better be._

Ivenack begins to speak, "Johanna, do you have any note-worthy skills that you may be hiding?" He sounds so full of hope, and I hate to disappoint, but lying is key to my survival now.

"No." _Besides the axe,_ I want to add, but I make sure I don't.

"In training, be sure to learn then. If you go into the arena without any skills, _you will die._ D'you hear me? _You will die._ So learn something. Try to throw spears, learn to make snares, whatever - I honestly don't care what you choose to specialise in. Just give me something to work with so I can persuade the sponsors.

"I'll try."

"Good. Now, you and Gideon both need to master something- anything, so we'll be training you separately. Any objection to that? No? Very well, separate it is." He stands and says, "Training is at ten, don't leave Ariadne waiting."

I return to my room and I brush my teeth, and I check my appearance in the mirror. Though my hair was previously tied back simply, I undo it and let it hide my face.

I force myself to stumble across the landing, for young Gideon's sake more than anything. We get into the same elevator as yesterday and it is even scarier going downwards than upwards. I keep telling myself that it will be okay, but deep down inside, I know it won't be fine. Death isn't ever okay.


	6. Chapter 6

We all gather around a woman named Atala as she briefs us on what the purpose of training is. Of course, most of us already know fully well, but I guess she's going on and on, probably because she gets more money or something else like that. Nothing like that would surprise me, considering some of the things that I know they definitely do here.

When we're finally allowed to train it is a real relief to me. I know that I have to be careful to not seem too capable, so I head to the innocent-looking plants station. I already know quite a few, so it should be a good place to observe the other tributes from without appearing suspicious.

I stay as far away from the other tribute there (the girl from District 3) as I can, electing to sit on a foam mat beside some baskets of berries and roots, my legs crossed. I reach out and grab one of the baskets, and begin to manually sort its contents into two piles. I go to place a root in the edible pile, where it should go, before thinking better of it. The more incompetent with plants that I seem, the longer I will be able to stay here before the other tributes get suspicious of me. I mean, nobody would find it weird if I don't know much yet, but if I show my knowledge... well, then they would wonder what the hell my game plan is.

I can't have people realising I have a game plan.

Into the inedible pile it goes, along with the next two, which are also edible. For good measure, I put the rest of the poisonous berries and roots in the edible pile. There are a few I don't recognise, so I randomly allocate them to a pile, and I get up and take the baskets to the scanner. Oh, look. I got nine wrong, what a shame - I'll just have to do it again.

I keep at it for hours, gradually making fewer and fewer mistakes as I go. I'm in pretty much the optimal place to observe the others here. I can tell that the girl from District 2 has a thing for the guy from District 4, who himself hates the boy from 1, and is trying to constantly be better than him. His ego will be his downfall, and her heart shall be hers. The girl from 4 appears to be the pack leader, and I can't say that I am surprised. The most recent victor was a girl from 4, so she more than likely shall get good sponsorship herself, and that puts her in a strong position. Her and the boy from 1 appear the biggest threats right now.

Outside of the career pack, there are few contenders, but for all I know they could be like me, pretending to be someone they're not. I doubt it, but I can't rule it out. My initial thoughts are to watch out for the girl from 8 and the boy from 10, though I could easily be wrong. I mean, they'll all be wrong about me!

At lunch, I see the pair from 1 joking with one another, and the girl from District 2 is flirting with the boy from 4 again. I bet her aim is to get in his bed before we reach the arena. She'll probably succeed, he looks like a bit of a sleaze right now. He'd likely do anything for a quick fuck, and she's basically handing it to him on a plate. I frown - I cannot for the life of me understand girls like that. She'll be having to kill him next week, but she wants to sleep with him first? What kind of girl wants that?

All the other tributes are alone, quiet. There are no alliances, and why would there be? Nobody wants to make a friend and kill them. At least, nobody sane does. The careers ally, but they're not sane, are they?

There is a strange feeling in the air when I return to the plants station. Almost as though someone is watching me. I gasp. _What if someone is onto me? What if they know my incompetence is all a façade?_

 _No,_ I have to tell myself. _It's just your mind playing tricks on you, Johanna._

I know that it is probably just me being overly paranoid, but I decide to move stations anyway. This time, it is net weaving.

I don't have to lie or pretend this time, I genuinely don't know how to weave nets. Fortunately, the trainer does, and so he helps me out. My first few attempts become tangled messes, and one time I manage to weave my ponytail into it, and I have to have the bottom few inches cut off. Mother would be saddened that my hair is being cut, but it's only the very bottom, and it shall be lighter for the arena anyway. I still look innocent, naïve. It's worth it for sure if it helps me get out with my life.

Tucking my hair inside my jacket, I see two of the career boys laughing at me. My first thought is to scowl, but I think better. I make myself blush instead, to make it seem like it is embarassing for me. To be honest, it genuinely is, but I would never admit that usually to people. Today it just seems like frowning would create more trouble than good.

As it is, I am far more interested in saving my own damn life than I am in being me. I can get back to being me, but only if I have enough time left in my life. It really wasn't too difficult to decide what to prioritise.

I manage to make a small net that is passable and I get a feeling of immence pride running throuh my body, that I've actually accomplished something. Yes, it is nowhere even close to good enough to use in the arena itself, but if I had enough time, then I think some day I could make it big in the net weaving world. Johanna Mason: master net weaver.

It's a simple and childish idea, with no sense to it at all, but it makes me chuckle a little, under my breath.

I'm so lost in my stupid amusement that I fail to see the other tributes leaving the centre, and there's only about three of us left. The rope from my hand ends up on the floor somewhere between the station and the packed elevator.


End file.
